


Dinosaurs Aren't The Only Danger From Anomalies

by Casey_Tyler



Category: Primeval: New World
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Sickfic, Team as Family, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Tyler/pseuds/Casey_Tyler
Summary: Post 1x03. Evan comes down with a mysterious illness after returning from the anomaly. Trapped in the lower levels of Cross Photonics, he has to figure out a way of contacting his team.





	Dinosaurs Aren't The Only Danger From Anomalies

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've discovered a new fandom. Just started watching this show (a friend told me it has Zane Donovan and dinosaurs, and I didn't need any more convincing than that, lol) and already feel the urge to write fanfics of these awesome characters. I'm still in the early half of the show, so please forgive anything that doesn't line up with later episodes.
> 
> Takes place immediately after 1x03 Fear of Flying. Written for the Whumptober2020 challenge on tumblr, for the prompts: Infection, Hypothermia, and I Don't Feel So Well.

Running his keycard over the lock reader, Evan waited impatiently for the doors to unseal. As soon as the light turned green, he pulled open the door and stepped into the frigid room, sniffling slightly as the cold air hit him.

He wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to come down here tonight. He didn't visit this room as regularly as he once did. Over the years, it'd turned into more of a rarity to come down here.

But he'd been in a mood since getting back from the airport earlier, and felt the need to be down here. It wasn't quite what he would consider a safe or comforting place to be — but it was a reminder of why he was doing all this in the first place. Something to help reassure him that the past five years hadn't all gone to waste. A reassurance that there was a genuinely good reason to keep chasing these anomalies despite the potential dangers.

A shiver ran through him as he stared at the place where that first anomaly had been. The place where his whole life had taken a sharp turn off course.

Now that they knew anomalies could open and close repeatedly over a length of time, he couldn't help wondering if this one would ever reopen. He wasn't even sure what he expected to happen if it did. Maybe a chance at going after the creature that had ruined his life. Or maybe what he really wanted was for someone else from that mystery place to come through and finally give him some _real_ answers to all of this.

Evan's phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. He pulled it out with cold fingers, almost dropping it as he checked the screen. Another text from Dylan. He'd already gotten one from her an hour ago, and another from Mac. Apparently he wasn't the only person thrown off by the events at the airport.

He'd sent them home early today, figuring they'd earned a long weekend after the day they'd had.

For his own part, he'd elected to stay in and do some work on that new prototype Ange had been pestering him about. Sleep wasn't going to come readily tonight anyway.

He couldn't shake the uneasiness left in him from their adventure today. Yes, they'd all made it back safely. But it was too easy to imagine all the ways in which it could have gone wrong. The odds were heavily in favor of him and Dylan being trapped on the wrong side of that anomaly when it closed. And that would mean being trapped in that nightmare for the rest of their lives — however much longer that ended up being, in a hostile environment with no food or water.

No one had been more surprised by their safe return than Evan was. He'd assumed they were stuck pretty much as soon as they lost the pilot and the bugs showed up. Trying to fix a plane without the proper tools, no fuel, and one hysterical rookie pilot to fly them back out... it had seemed like a done deal at that point. Not that he'd had any plans of giving up, of course. But he had a newfound respect for Dylan after seeing how she managed to keep her optimism going through each disaster that hit them.

In the end, though, they'd still failed in their primary mission.

Thinking about the people they'd lost certainly wasn't helping his mood. Their deaths weighed heavily on him, and he knew they would for a long time. More innocent victims to add to the list.

Part of him wanted to go dig up the airstrip so they could give those people a proper burial. But trying to explain an airplane and human bones that were that old was not something he could cover up easily. It would raise far too many questions.

On that note, maybe he should talk to Ange about buying the airstrip to ensure that no one else ever dug it up.

Another shiver ran through him and Evan pulled his jacket closer around him. He didn't remember it being so cold down here.

He should probably be getting back upstairs anyway. There was no point in spending the night here if he wasn't actually going to get any work done. Plus, Ange would kill him if he wasted his free time not working on that project.

He turned around, surprised when he found himself temporarily off-balanced. Planting his feet a bit more solidly on the floor, he waited until the feeling passed before setting off again. That was weird. Maybe he was a little more tired than he thought.

Leaving the room, Evan made sure to close and re-lock the doors before starting up the staircase.

The clanging of the metal stairs aggravated the headache that had been forming in the back of his brain all afternoon. As long as it stayed in the background, he wouldn't mind ignoring it a few more hours.

 _Just don't turn into a migraine_ , he thought with a grimace. He used to get terrible migraines from working too many hours in the engineering lab — back when he'd been working on the prototype for the Mark I's — but Ange had fixed that problem by instating a strict time limit on how long he was able to be in there each night. And she hadn't been above using security to get him out if he overstayed his welcome.

He was almost at the top of the stairs when he must have placed his foot wrong. All he knew was that there was suddenly open air where there should have been a step. His hand shot out to grab the railing for balance, and also missed its mark. A terrifying moment passed in which up and down seemed to get completely switched around. When it was over, he found himself sprawled on the walkway.

Pushing himself to a sitting position, he took a few breaths and tried to let the dizziness fade.

At least if he had to fall off the stairs, he'd pitched forward onto the walkway instead of backwards, which would have resulted in a nasty tumble onto the concrete below.

Head pounding, Evan forced himself to stand up despite the lingering disorientation. The metal grating was uncomfortable and chilly to sit on and he had things to get done.

He'd barely made it to his feet before a coughing fit took hold. It started as a slight tickle in the back of his throat, and quickly ramped up in intensity from there. Eyes watering, Evan doubled over as his lungs struggled to gasp in some air between coughs. His lungs burned. A genuine panic seized him as the attack didn't show any signs of letting up.

Stumbling forward through the pain, Evan hit the release bar on the metal door and fell through to the hallway on the other side.

Black spots clouded his vision as his body fought in vain to get any oxygen into his system.

When the world finally stopped burning, Evan found himself curled on the floor of the hallway, specks of blood on his hand and sleeve from where he'd coughed into them. Which would have been a lot more worrying if he wasn't busy focusing on the fact that he could finally _breathe_. He never thought he could appreciate such an automatic bodily function this much.

It didn't take long for the relief to pass, though. Because he was still feeling a bit fuzzy, but he was sure that all of this was a very bad sign. Something was wrong with him — and he was willing to bet it had something to do with spending the day inside that anomaly. And that thought brought an even more terrifying one in its wake: Dylan had also been in there with him.

He needed to call her. Find out if she was okay. Warn her that they might have brought something back through with them. A prehistoric contagion which they might spread to other people if they don't get it under control immediately.

Almost-numb fingers fumbled at his pocket, trying to retrieve his cell phone. He hadn't even realized until now that he was still freezing. Apparently it wasn't the refrigeration room that had caused his earlier chills. _And where was his phone?_

It was in his pocket earlier. He knew that. He'd gotten texts from Mac and Dylan. Wait, the texts.

Groaning, he realized it must still be in the sealed room downstairs. There was no way he was getting all the way back down there when he could barely move as it was.

Another shiver wracked his body as Evan tried to force his mind to concentrate. He needed a way out of this. He needed a way to contact the others...

He needed...

His eyes slid open and blinked heavily. When did he fall asleep? He didn't remember dozing off. And how much time had passed? Wasn't there something important he'd been needing to do?

A deep cough tore its way out of his throat, sharply reminding him of his current predicament.

Right.

Mysterious infection from a prehistoric desert.

He shook his head, trying to clear away the tiredness, but only succeeding in making his headache throb in response.

He needed to get help. He needed to get a warning to the others. And fast, if his rapidly deteriorating condition was anything to go by. For something that had started off so gradual, it was now hitting him with a vengeance.

The hallway looked familiar, but Evan couldn't quite place where he was. Which was in itself a frightening thought. He knew every nook and corner of this building inside and out. He spent more time here than he did in his own home. But right now, this empty white hall was a complete mystery to him.

Okay, if he couldn't go find help himself, he'd have to bring it to him.

The problem with that was the fact that his phone was still missing.

Also, there was the issue of it being the middle of the night. Only the night security team would be on duty at this hour, and there was no telling how long it'd take for one of them to find him. If they even patrolled this part of the building at all; he might still be in the restricted section for all he knew.

Time for Plan B.

There was at least a fifty-percent chance Ange was still in the building. She had a conference call in the morning, so she probably stayed late to prep for that. Maybe she was still here? Although she'd definitely be in her office if that was the case. And there was no way Evan was going to manage crawling up four flights of stairs in his current state.

The Tank was the closest location that might have people in it. He'd sent the team home hours ago, but he was willing to bet Toby had disregarded those orders as usual. She practically lived in that section of the building; he'd caught her sleeping on the couch in his office more than once.

But he still needed some way of contacting her.

Reaching a hand into his pocket, Evan wrapped frozen fingers around the objects in there and pulled them out. They clattered to the floor in front of him as his grip immediately failed him. Well, that was fine, as long as he could see what he had to work with. He managed to get one elbow under him and push himself up a bit, using the wall for support. Not quite sitting up, but close enough. And certainly the best he'd be able to do right now.

Blinking slowly as he scanned the objects, Evan fought to keep his brain on task. He needed something to communicate with.

A brief coughing fit stole his breath away, but also shocked him back to awareness. Probably not something to be happy about, but he'd take it. Especially if it saved his and Dylan's lives.

Tired gray eyes continued picking through the small pile of debris he'd unearthed. Various bits and pieces of at least a dozen different projects. But nothing useful.

He shifted against the wall, trying to keep himself semi-upright and alert. Something in his opposite pocket dug into his side uncomfortably. His arms felt like dead weight, but he eventually succeeded in retrieving the object. A tiny spark of hope lit inside as he realized it was the Mark II. He must have forgotten to return it after they got back from the airport.

The spark flickered and died a moment later.

Because what exactly was he supposed to do with it?

This was his ticket out of this situation. He _knew_ it. But he didn't know how.

_He should know how._

Half-formed ideas skittered around in the back of his mind, but he couldn't seem to grasp any of them. This device was connected to Toby's computer in the Tank. It should be simple to figure out a way of using that to communicate with her. So why couldn't he figure it out?

Maybe he was too tired to think. Maybe it was the pounding in his skull, or the deep ache in his chest. Maybe he needed to rest a minute and he could figure out something later...

Vague images and thoughts drifted around him but he couldn't focus on any of them.

The world kept going dark and hazy, then slowly fading back into view, only to go dark again.

Some part of him knew that too much time was passing, and that he didn't have much of it to spare. If only he could feel as concerned about that as he probably should be.

He jerked awake as his body seized and coughed violently. Something that could have been either phlegm or blood — or possibly a lung at this point, based on the amount of pain — forced its way out of his system.

Gasping as the worst of it passed, Evan looked around blearily. Where was he?

Memories crawled through his brain sluggishly. He vaguely recalled being in the cold room and getting dizzy. So how had he ended up... wherever he currently was?

Numb hands reached out to push him up. Sitting back against the wall, he tried to remember what he'd been doing. It was hard to think through the stabbing pain drilling into his brain. He pressed an ice-cold hand against his forehead, rubbing to ease the ache.

Something caught his eye and Evan lowered his hand, squinting as he tried to focus on what looked like writing on his palm. The open sharpie marker on the floor clued him in to how it had gotten there.

Despite the shaky handwriting, he could make out the general idea of what was written there. They were instructions relating to the Mark II. But why? His gaze drifted down to the floor where the device in question sat in a state of partial disassembly. Wires and various other items lay scattered around it.

Half of a memory clicked in his mind. He needed to set up the device so it would send a phantom signal to Toby's computer. Whether they believed there to be an anomaly in the building or not, they'd send someone to check it out.

It was a good idea... he just wished he could remember coming up with it.

Sniffling as he buried his nose into his jacket collar, Evan set to work on the device again. Apparently, he'd made good progress before. It was almost finished. He added a few more adjustments and then added his progress to the writing on his palm, in case his focus drifted again.

He had no idea how many more times he dozed off or lost his train of thought. The instructions he left for himself got him back on task each time — even after he passed the point of being able to remember why he was working on this at all. The handwriting got messier as his hands refused to cooperate, and the scrawled notes eventually grew past his palm and began working their way down his arm as well.

But, eventually, he finished it. Just in time, too, since his hands were now too numb to do this kind of delicate work. The shivering had stopped a while ago, though, so that was something. Unless that was a bad sign. He really couldn't remember.

Evan turned on the Mark II and set it beside him. Leaning back against the wall, he waited for... actually, he couldn't remember what this was supposed to do. But it was finished, so he should be able to rest now.

The faint sounds of approaching footsteps reached his ears as the world faded from view once more.

_Warmth._

That was the first thing he noticed. It wasn't cold anymore. Well, it wasn't quite as cold, anyway. Certainly not to the same level as before.

It was also dark.

A sharp scent filled his nose, causing him to sniff wetly. It smelled... sterile.

 _Hospital,_ his brain supplied tiredly. That would also account for the annoying beep coming from somewhere to his right.

Blinking his eyes open, Evan stared up at the hazy white ceiling overhead. It took a few more blinks before his vision cleared and he could make out more than vague shapes.

"You're awake."

Well, that was a noise he had no trouble identifying. Head turning slowly to the left, he spotted her sitting in the chair beside the bed. Judging from the slightly untamed appearance of her hair and clothes, it had been a long night. Under the most stressful circumstances, Ange somehow always managed to look completely put together and in control. Whatever had happened, it was bad.

Half-formed images flashed through his head, but he was having trouble sorting them into any order. He blamed the pounding headache for that.

"How—"

"Toby was working in the Tank last night," Ange cut him off. Which was probably for the best. His throat wasn't feeling the greatest right now. "She almost freaked at the reading she got when the anomaly detector went off. Then she realized the reading wasn't typical for an anomaly and she called your phone. It didn't take long for us to put together the pieces and find you."

Something was nagging at the back of his mind.

He could remember bits and pieces of it now. The visit downstairs after everyone else had left, the dizzy spell that hit him, trying to contact Toby. But there was more to it, wasn't there? A piece he was missing...

It hit him suddenly. Panic shooting through him, he turned to Ange.

"Dylan," he rasped, sandpaper scratching at his throat. "She's—"

"She's fine," he was abruptly cut off again. "The doctors already checked her and gave her a clean bill of health. Whatever infected you apparently isn't transmittable between humans."

Relaxing at the knowledge that Dylan was going to be fine, Evan took a minute to process what she'd told him. The scientist in him couldn't help being curious how he'd been infected in the first place, whether from the bugs or simply from the environment. But he was also too tired and relieved to care in this moment. At least it hadn't stuck around long. He was feeling completely wiped out, but nowhere near as bad as last night.

Not even bothering to speak this time, he shot an inquisitive glance at Ange which she easily interpreted.

"They said it's almost out of your system, too. They put you on oxygen last night, to be safe, but they're sure the worst of it is passed now. The antibiotics helped some, but the doctors think the virus had a naturally short lifespan anyway."

"So, I basically caught the prehistoric version of the twenty-four hour flu?" Evan joked, wincing at the strain it put on his raw throat. "That's somewhat anti-climactic."

Ange crossed her arms, glaring down at him disapprovingly. Apparently it was still a bit soon to joke about it. Also, the intensity of that glare told him it was a much closer call than he was comfortable admitting.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "Thanks, Ange," he told her sincerely. It wasn't enough, but it was enough for them. Her expression softened slightly, the anger melting. Which was, of course, his opening to risk making her mad again. "So, how soon til I get out of here?"

An exasperated eye roll indicated that it probably wouldn't be anytime soon.

"You're staying in that bed until the doctors say you can leave," she said, confirming his hunch. "And then you're going home to rest — real rest, in a real bed. If I catch you setting foot inside Cross Photonics before next week, I'll have you forcibly evicted from the premises. If need be, I will revoke your security clearance."

"Is that legal? You know it's my building, right?"

"Yeah, you wish," Ange smirked at him. "Now," she added, unfolding from the chair, "I have to get out of here. Time to get back to running that company you claim to own."

He smiled back at her, eyes feeling heavy as the tiredness settled over him again. Now that he knew the others were okay and he hadn't unleashed a deadly plague on the city, maybe he could let himself get some actual sleep.

Ange gathered up her purse and shoes while rattling off a few more instructions for him that he only somewhat listened to. Before leaving the room, she added, "And before you fall asleep, I think there a few people who want to say hello. They've been waiting for you to wake up."

The door swung open and she stepped out, replaced almost immediately by three familiar faces. Evan stared in surprise as Dylan, Mac, and Toby gathered around, all displaying equal amounts of worry and relief.

Toby rushed over and pulled him into a hug, which he was too stunned to respond to. She pulled back a second later and immediately proceeded to punch him in the arm. "That's for scaring me half to death," she said. "You have no idea how freaked out I was when I kept getting your voicemail. And then your keycard log showed you never left the building and..." She blew out a breath and gave him another quick hug. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Evan stared after her as she stepped back to make room for the others. Honestly, it was sweet that she'd been that worried. But also unexpected. Sure, he considered her more of a friend than an employee, but he hadn't realized how much that feeling was reciprocated. Toby wasn't usually the most open person to showing affection.

And then suddenly Mac was there looking sleep deprived and giving him that concerned look that always made Evan think of a mother bear protecting her cubs.

"From now on, mate," he told Evan sternly, "when there's a big shiny hole in the timeline, you _don't_ go wandering through it. Okay?"

Evan smiled and gave his hand a quick squeeze. "No promises," he shot back, a smile fighting its way onto his face.

Mac shook his head, sighing. "You're a bit of an idiot, you know that right?"

His eyes landed on Dylan next, standing a bit behind the others with her hands shoved deep in her pockets. A frown had furrowed its way onto her forehead. Evan recognized that stance a little too well. And he felt bad for making her worry that much. In his defense, though, she'd had him pretty freaked out as well. He wasn't sure what he would have done if she'd contracted some unknown disease from that desert. She'd only gone in there to help him, so anything that happened to her would have been his fault.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, finally stepping around Mac to be closer. "The doctors said you'll still be out of it for a while."

"Yeah, kinda feel like I could sleep for a week," Evan admitted.

"Wow," Toby interjected. "You _must_ be delirious."

Ignoring the jab, Evan met Dylan's eyes with a frown of his own. "Are you sure you're okay? The doctors tested you—"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Honestly."

And that must have been exactly what he'd needed to hear, because the last of the tension finally seeped out of him. Dylan was fine. He was fine. They'd all made it back relatively unscathed from another mission.

A nurse came in a few minutes later to usher the visitors out. A quick round of farewells was exchanged as they filtered out of the room. Mac almost looked ready to bully his way into staying, but Evan assured him for the hundredth time that he was fine and only needed some sleep.

After the door swung shut behind them, the room felt so much quieter with only the nurse and the beeping machines to break the silence.

"They were really worried when they brought you in last night," the nurse commented as she checked his blood pressure and temperature. "You have some very loyal friends there."

That was the understatement of a lifetime, Evan knew. He had no idea how this random team of individuals ended up becoming the most important people in his life, but they had. It was completely true what he'd said on the plane — they were the people he loved the most.

He really didn't think he'd have that again after losing Brooke. But, against his best attempts to keep himself closed off, those four had somehow managed to worm their way inside.

And he was glad to have them.


End file.
